


Poison

by o_rcrist



Series: Tumblr Prompt [2]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-23
Updated: 2012-04-23
Packaged: 2017-11-04 05:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/o_rcrist/pseuds/o_rcrist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agron is poisoned by the Romans, and Nasir can do nothing but watch over him and provide comfort, as he anxiously awaits the Medicus return with the herbs that will save his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poison

It had been a long day. Nasir had spent the day on a scouting mission with Agron and Spartacus and the heat had been relentless, drinking the last of their water sometime ago. They were still aways from the temple, as they rounded some boulders and found a small pond, filled with clear water. “The gods finally show favor,” Agron grumbled and fell to his knees, and began to bring the water to his lips. Spartacus walked ahead for a moment, and Nasir knelt beside Agron, ready to drink his fill. But then he saw something.  A thin film on the top of the water.

“Stop,” he said frantically, hitting the man’s hands away from the water.

“What is the matter?” Agron asked, his blue eyes looking at Nasir as if he’d lost mind.

“There is something in the water,” his eyes frantically watching Agron, begging to the gods that what he feared would not come.

Agron looked at the water, and Nasir saw his eyes widen in understanding. “Nasir, I’m-”, but his words were silenced, as Agron coughed into his hand. As he pulled his hand from his mouth, Nasir’s heart clenched. There was blood in his hand.

“Spartacus!” he yelled, his eyes not leaving Agron, taking the man’s face into his hands. Spartacus ran back to them, his eyes quickly taking in Agron.

“What has happened?” he demanded.

“The water. Someone has poisoned it.”

Spartacus glanced at the water, then back to Agron. “We have to get him to the Medicus. Now. Help me lift him.” Nasir nodded, pulling one of Agrons arms over his shoulder, as Spartacus did the same with the other. Agron coughed again, a blood dripped from his mouth. They ran as fast they could, half dragging Agron. It was only a short time before the temple was in sight again, but it felt like hours. They burst through the entrance to the temple, and he could hear people shouting, but Nasir could only focus on Agron.

Spartacus helped lay Agron on their bed, and then ran to find the Medicus. Nasir knelt beside him, a rag in hand, wiping away the blood coming from his mouth. He gently pressed his hand to Agrons face, cupping his cheek. His skin burned with fever. The Medicus burst into the room, pushing Nasir aside, as he inspected Agron. “What was in the water?” he asked.

“I do not know” Nasir answered.

The Medicus rounded on him, “How can I help him, if I do not know what has poisoned him?”

Nasir glared at him, “If you let him die, I will see you to the next fucking world myself.”

Spartacus stepped between them, and shoved his water skin into the Medicus’ hand. “That is some of the water he drank.” The Medicus opened it and sniffed the water.

“Do you know what it is?” the Syrian demanded, his eyes looking back at Agron.

“I do. But I do not have the herbs to cure it,” he said slowly.

Nasir’s heart clenched again, but he made himself speak, “Where do we find them then?” He waited for the Medicus reply, but the man remained silent. “Answer me!” Nasir demanded.

The Medicus remained silent still.

“Answer him,” Spartacus ordered.

“You might find them in Neapolis, in their apothecary.”

A small surge of hope ran through Nasir. “Then let us go there!” He looked to Spartacus for help.

“Nasir, stay here and watch over Agron. Medicus and I will go to Neapolis.” Nasir nodded. Part of him wanted to go with them, to make sure they traveled with all haste possible, but the other half of him refused to leave Agrons side. “We shall return swiftly, Nasir,” Spartacus assured him, and then the two men were gone from the room.

Nasir turned as he heard Agron cough again. Blood coated his Germans lips. He gently wiped away the blood again, the skin beneath his hand burning. He eased the leather strap that held Agrons dagger from around his chest, then unbuckled the belt that held his sword from around his waist, and tossed them into the corner with the rest of their belongings. Agron’s body shivered beneath his hands. Nasir pulled the blanket over him, and he heard the mats part behind him.

He turned and saw Naevia standing there, a stool and clean cloth in her arms. She gave him a small smile, “I thought you might need these.” Nasir gladly accepted the stool and cloth, and sat beside Agron, dipping one of the cloths into some water, placing it across his forehead. Naevia gently placed her hand on his shoulder, but he would not turn to look at her. “He is strong,” she said, “you both are. He will not leave this world.” Nasir nodded, grateful for her words. He heard the mat part again as she left.

The heat from Agrons body quickly heated the rag on his forehead, and Nasir replaced it with a fresh one. Agron’s eyes remained closed, his breathing heavy and labored. His coughing fits became more violent, as more blood spilled from his mouth. All Nasir could do was offer small words of comfort, as he held a rag in front of Agrons mouth, catching the blood. When he had calmed down, Nasir placed his hand on Agrons face, gently rubbing his thumb across his cheek. Agron opened his eyes at the touch, his green eyes slowly focusing on Nasir’s. He gave a weak smile, and took Nasir’s hand in one of his own, bringing it close to his chest, holding it there. “You fret over nothing, Nasir,” his words were quiet; “it will take more than this, to draw me from this life.” A smile tugged at Nasir’s lips. Even in such a state, he found it comforting that Agron could still jest. He looked back into Agrons green eyes, and eyes that normally brimmed with laughter, were now filled with fear.

Nasir pressed his lips to Agrons, wishing he could take away the fear Agron felt with his kiss. If he could take Agrons place, he would have. It hurt to see Agron, who was so strong, weakened to such a state. Nasir could feel the anger in him rising. Only the Romans would resort to such cowardly means, and his hatred of them multiplied. They had ripped him from his family as a child, and now they attempted to take Agron from him. If Agron died….. _No,_ he thought to himself. Agron would not leave this world, not without Nasir to accompany him.  

Their lips parted, and Nasir pressed his forehead to Agrons. The gladiators breathing was still labored, Nasir could feel the man’s heart beating erratically, as Agron still held the Syrians hand close to his chest. “Shhhh,” he whispered, “listen to my breath, and heart.” He pulled Agrons hand to his chest, placing it over his heart. Agron gave him a small nod, their foreheads still pressed together. Slowly his breathing began to match Nasirs, and he could feel Agron’s body relax for a moment, until another fit took him. Agrons hand gripped tight around Nasirs, the only sign that he was in pain. Nasir squeezed back, and held the rag to Agrons mouth, wiping away the blood once more.

Nasir worried. It had been hours since Spartacus and the Medicus had departed for Neapolis. They should have been back by now. His ears strained to hear anything that would signal there return, while his eyes remained focused on Agron. Naevia burst into the room a few minutes later, followed by Spartacus and the Medicus. He quickly moved out of the way, moving to kneel beside Agron instead. He watched as the Medicus took the herbs from a satchel and mixed them together, before mixing them into a cup of water. Agron coughed once again, and the Medicus held the cup in front of Agrons lips.

“Drink,” he ordered, but Agron would not.

“Let me,” Nasir said, taking the cup from the Medicus’ hand. “Agron,” he said quietly, the gladiator’s eyes flickering open to look at him, “drink this.” Agron nodded, and allowed Nasir to pour the drink down his throat.

“Give him a few hours. One of the herbs will help him rest, while the others work to nullify the poison,” the Medicus told him. “Come find me if his condition worsens.” Nasir nodded in understanding, watching Agron.

Medicus and Spartacus departed, but Naevia stayed, coming to kneel next to Nasir. “You need food, and sleep,” she said, but he would not leave Agrons side. Naevia sighed, “I shall return in a moment.” She left the room, and Nasir sat back on the stool, as Agron slowly fell asleep.

He did not realize Naevia had returned, until a bowl of stew was held in front of him. He looked up at her, and she gave him a small smile. “Eat,” she ordered, taking the rag Nasir was still holding in his hands, and placing the bowl in them. Nasir knew he would not win against her, and he was hungry. He started to eat, watching as Naevia dipped a clean cloth into the bowl of water and laid it across Agrons forehead. “You should sleep Nasir,” she told him.

Nasir shook his head, “No. Not yet.”

Naevia shook her head, “Nasir, please.” Nasir finished the last of his food, and moved to replace the cloth on Agrons forehead, but Naevia pushed his hand away. “Fall to sleep beside him. The herbs only force him to sleep, but he will still dream of unpleasant things, as Crixus did when the Medicus gave them to him. Your touch beside him might ward them off.” Nasir nodded, and Naevia left the room.

Nasir heard Agron mutter something, and leaned closer to him. “She is right,” he heard him mumble.

Nasir had thought he had fallen to sleep. “Your fever still burns,” he said sofly, replacing the cloth on the gladiator’s forehead. Agrons hand wrapped around his wrist, and weakly pulled Nasir onto the bed beside him.

“My skin has always burned hot, when you are near,” he said as if that settled the matter.

Nasir sighed, “you stubborn German.” Agron smiled and closed his eyes, intertwining his fingers in Nasirs. The gladiators labored breathing slowed, and Nasir leaned over, and without disturbing Agron rewet the cloth he held. He gently wiped it across Agrons face, wiping away the sweat and last traces of blood on his lips.

Nasir watched over Agron, refusing to let sleep take him. He gently ran his hand over Agrons face as he slept, occasionally pressing the cold cloth to his forehead when his skin became too hot. Agron muttered something again, and the Syrian leaned closer. “Nasir,” he whispered, his eyes remaining closed. Agron was dreaming. Of him. Nasir smiled at the thought. Even in his sleep, the gladiator’s arms searched for him, pulling him to his chest. His skin had cooled a little, his fever starting to break at last. Relief rushed through him, and at last allowed himself to fall asleep. 


End file.
